


frame of mind

by mercytech (syscheckAIDAN)



Category: Warframe
Genre: Fishing, Gen, Second Dream Spoilers, The Sacrifice Spoilers, and i subscribe to Latently Sentient Warframe concept, helo i like warframe now and i Have To Write for it, im a limbo main in case you couldn't tell, im here for emotional bonds and empathy themes man its my jam, ok real talk i havent actually gotten that far but I KNOW
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24601072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/syscheckAIDAN/pseuds/mercytech
Summary: Fragments of moments with the Operator and their family. 'Cause, you know, a family can be a traumatized void teen, the space ninjas they pilot, and the ship they all live on.
Relationships: Operator & Warframes
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	frame of mind

**Author's Note:**

> WARFRIENDS WARFRIENDS WARFRIENDS

Fishing came easiest, the Operator decided, when they weren’t using Limbo.   
  
Ordinarily they would say that they found it all soothing: the slow lapping of water against the riverbank, the occasional burble and splash of surfacing fish, the rustle of grass and maprico tree. Sometimes, in the rare absence of missions, they would shrug themselves out of their Warframe and step onto the plains, breathing deep with lungs that had mostly only taken in the Orbiter’s filtered air. Resting on a rock in the sun had quickly become one of the Operator’s favorite pastimes; there was something tantalizing about getting to just lay back of their own volition, in their own body, for long stretches of time.  
  
A charc eel broke the surface; Limbo’s responding strike came too quickly, barely grazing scales. They could feel it, even without reaching deep: his impatience. He’d been tired of crouching at the water’s edge since they started.   
  
Recently, it’d been hard for the Operator to think of themselves as _controlling_ the Warframes. It made something in them squirm uncomfortably, something that had woken up from the long dream, recognized itself as human, and promptly asked, _then who are the ’frames?_ It awoke in them a sensitivity that would do their mother proud (and oh, that thought stung, bringing thoughts of the derelict ship: their mother. Oh.).   
  
_There’s a person in there with me,_ the Operator concluded, and with this understanding came the feeling. There were subtle ebbs and flows within each Warframe’s headspace, occasional flickers of explicit personality, bright and flaring. Sometimes, if they could just listen hard enough, connect well enough, they might even hear snatches of thought, whispers, opinions that they _knew_ were not their own.   
  
_No dancing,_ said one of the undercurrents, once, dejection lacing the words. The Operator had stood within Octavia, gazing up at Simaris’ impassive avatar. _Why?  
_  
An almost-voice crackling like ozone as they swept through a Grineer base with Volt. _Take everything. Credits, ammo, everything!_  
  
And the clearest one, Umbra, who made laconic thoughts known in a voice raspy with loss. _Isaah_ , he would murmur, angry and hurt. _Isaah_. And he wouldn’t need to say any more. And sometimes, strangely, the Operator could forget it was his grief and not their own.  
  
Was _any_ of it their own?  
  
Their mind had wandered, and it was the sudden lunge of Limbo’s fishing arm that snapped them back to the present. ( _There_ – they hadn’t consciously made the move.) This time, the spear caught the eel dead-center, and as they hauled the creature in and added it to the pile by their side, they felt satisfaction bloom in their mind. This one made an even twelve; Fisher Hai-Luk would be pleased. It made them just a bit proud – but they paused, because not all of the emotion was theirs.  
  
Limbo’s satisfaction took on an edge of near-smugness as his nimble fingers scooped up the fish. It wasn’t the pride of a job well done, the Operator thought with a little grin. It was its own exclamation of, “ _Finally_ , we’ve finished!” made all the more clear by the extra spring in the Warframe’s step as they headed back toward Cetus. Limbo, math-oriented showman he was, didn’t appreciate fishing for much more than the vector angle of a clean shot, and between his spear-launching skill and the Operator’s, they would be winning no contests. The magician preferred high-movement activity, dodging in and out reality, and – surprisingly enough – defending others, if not with sheer strength, then with his sleight-of-hand rift tricks.   
  
Fishing was probably more suited to Excalibur, who had more patience by far. They’d have to find something else to do to make it up to Limbo.  
  
As the towers gates cycled closed behind them, the Operator paused and thought, straining to hear some whisper of an answer, to feel some urge or preference.   
  
_What’s next, Limbo? It’s your turn._


End file.
